


Lie to me

by milkuetea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Hurt, Implied Character Death, Love, M/M, No Happy Ending Fest, Paranormal, Phobias, Raw Love, Slight comfort (not a lot at all), iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27160312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkuetea/pseuds/milkuetea
Summary: Those perfect teeth of his, his beautiful lips. a face smiles at you from the passenger seat, the same face, ageless, from the countless dreams, nightmares, hallucinations and in-between moments of waking and sleeping.His name falls from the back of your throat, rubbed dry months ago from screaming the same syllables. Over and over and over and over.“Oikawa...”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 4





	Lie to me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is my first time publishing a fanfiction and why not start off strong with some shameless angst -3- I spent a lot of time writing this so I really hope that anyone who finds this will enjoy it. It's not anything special but I also wouldn't consider my writing to be disappointing either. Please read and enjoy!  
> -  
> PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM (This is my original work)  
> -  
> ALSO: In case the way this is written confuses anyone, anything written in parenthesis (Like this) is the true meaning behind the lie that Iwaizuki/Oikawa just said. Oh, and the last half of this is in 2nd person, nut just know that it is through Iwaizumi's perspective

Tell me a lie. Any lie."

"I'm not a very good liar."

"Oh are you not now? I would've believed differently."

"I don't know. Leave me alone." (Don't leave. Never leave.)

~

"Tell me a lie. Any lie."  
"You're ugly. (You're ethereal. Stunning. Your beauty is so much that my two hands cannot even begin to graze it. Words fail to describe you.)

"Thanks, you too." (You're a terrible liar. And you are beautiful.)

"Tell me a lie. Any lie."

"We'll see each other again. Here. There. Somewhere in between."

"That's not a lie, is it?"

"Well it's not truth either."

~

"Tell me a lie. Stop giving me truth."

"You're ugly and I hate you." (Quite the opposite, really.)

"That's more like it."  
(Told you we'll meet again.)

"Tell me a lie. Any lie."

"I don't want to lie. It's fine." (Although I want to. None of this is okay. Look at you.) You tell me a lie.  
Ah how the tables have turned. "Don't I look alive today?"  
(We both know that's a lie.)

"Tell me a lie. Any lie."

"The world says yes, but the rings are a flat no." (Our genders prohibit us from marrying, but dear god the rings fit perfectly, hugging your finger so snugly.)

~

"You're mean."

"No I'm not. I just like bullying you." (And loving you.)

"Put that ring on me, will you? I want to look pretty. All in white.  
I'll tell you a lie."

"Which one?"

"We're getting married right now and you're wearing all white. No need for vows. We already exchanged them." (We are in your bedroom. Everything is in white because you insisted. Death should be pure, a rebirth, not an end. Your skin is yellow green, your joints shake and break. The room doesn't have any air.)

"Am I cute now?"

"You're ugly like usual. It'll do." (It's a lie.)

"That's so mean."

~

"Tell me a lie. Any lie."

"I can't live without you. It's the truth. I can't lie. Not anymore."

"Oh but you can. We spent all that time apart."

"Yes, but temporarily. Not forever."

"Nothing's forever."

"You are. We are."

"How disgusting. You will live."  
I wish that was the truth.

"If it is not so, wait for me. Look for me. If we are forever then you will find me wherever I am."

"I can't promise you that. I don't know how to. There's too much—"

"Then lie to me! Tell me a lie."

"I will search for you. Until there's nothing left. I will not stop, will not lose hope, will not forget, will not die, until we meet again."

"See? that's not too bad. I'll go now."

"NO! No no please no. Come back, come back please. I can't I can't—  
Tell me a lie. Any lie.  
I can't live without you and I wish it was a lie.  
I love you, Oikawa"  
~  
There is a highway, off to the west of Tokyo.  
It qualifies for gravel paths because the edges had been worn down by tires hours upon hours, sometimes trucks, sometimes cars.  
And legend, folk tales, stories— they tell of a tale. Regret. Anguish. Death. The veil between life and death when one drives past this highway.  
Perhaps the visions are real and ghosts live beyond the body, even with living beings. What can anyone prove or refute? They’ve all seen something, but they can’t say what.  
You. You don’t fear the dark, not the dark on its own. You fear what your mind conjures up in the absence of light, the fear that has no shape but a mass of its own, manifested in semi-corporeal monsters, outlines, figures, masses— moving, reaching, howling for you. for your mind unrestrained is your greatest fear, and your eyes under thrall to the organ inside your skull fall prey to the projection of heartbreak, anguish, regret.  
This highway perhaps will make sense. Perhaps you really are haunted and your eyes are seeing things. Perhaps all you need is your mind to be numbed beyond the point of conjuring massless entities between seeing and not-seeing.  
Who knows?  
Certainly not you, anyways. That’s why you’re on the highway.  
Your hands grip the steering wheel, nudging the car back whenever the tires crunch on pebbles. the lights died out a few minutes ago, and you’re engulfed in a gradual crawl of the dark. unfathomable depth. the whisperings start. lumps of bushes and sign posts flicker in and out of sight. fences bracket on either side.  
“Iwa-chan”  
The tires screech as you swerve to the emergency lane, tail lights flashing furious yellow. No. No. No. he’s not— surely— not. It’s not possible.  
“But not impossible.”  
It’s his voice, but—  
“You’re not real,” you tell him, or yourself.  
“I’m as real as you allow me to be, Iwa-chan."  
You want to scream. You want to cover up your eyes, ears or your brain from looking. Seeing. Being in the same air-shut space with him.

Him.

Him.

Him.

He’s as real as you’ll allow him to be. He could disappear. He really could. You’ll just have to—>  
Those perfect teeth of his, his beautiful lips. a face smiles at you from the passenger seat, the same face, ageless, from the countless dreams, nightmares, hallucinations and in-between moments of waking and sleeping.  
His name falls from the back of your throat, rubbed dry months ago from screaming the same syllables. Over and over and over and over.  
“Oikawa”  
“Hey,” the boy next to you smiles, “long time no see.  
“You’re not— what— what are you?”  
“I don’t know,” a shrug, “a nightmare, a ghost, a vision, whatever you want me to be. I’m only like this because you want me to look like this. Or remember me as this.”  
It’s not real. it’s a ghost of regret, manifested from something that can override even your own mind:  
A broken heart.  
“Please go away, Oikawa. It’s – it’s done. It’s too late.”  
“Nothing’s ever too late. You’re here, are you not? You must’ve wanted answers.”  
There are more questions as you’re sitting in that car, with a ghost of someone who was there. Or was there a ghost at all?  
“One thing for sure.” you watch the face move closer, the air barely brushing the shell of your ear as the lips mutter into your ear.  
“It’s not real.”  
Perhaps none of it is real and everything is a lucid sight your heart conjures up. You turn. There is no one. a brief flicker of an outline, a back, a familiar back, up ahead, receding away to the patch of light spilling onto broken concrete, until dusts scatter under the lamp light and all you have is air, warm air, ghost air, in the confined space of your car.  
“It wasn’t your fault. Why are you sorry, Iwa-chan?” the phantom whispers.  
“But I lost you either way,” your heart tells you, “for that I’m sorry.”  
The highway is a gateway that enables regret to manifest itself in cruel visions, heartrending things, distortions under the lamp light, shuttering on and off. All the questions you have will never be answered. You would not be visiting this path a second time. You have one and only answer from meeting your own ghost.  
The ghost of regret is the one that crushes your lungs, blinds your eyes, locks away your voice and throws it to the space between night and day.

-And it feels worse than dying.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading!!! :))  
> -  
> -  
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this despite the shameless angst -3- I'm actually really proud of this story which is why I wanted to post it here! I don't know if I'll ever write more on here, but if I do expect a lot of fluff and love to compensate for this depressing story idea B)  
> -  
> -  
> Please drop kudos and leave a comment too because I'd love to read them <3 tysm and bye byeee ^_^


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